“It hev been mighty hard on me,” Jerry again lifted up his dreary voice, “ter know how bes’ ter keer fur Rosamondy—not bein’ a ’oman myself an’ sech. I know she’s ragged, but I can’t mend her clothes so they’ll stay; she jumps so onexpected. I can’t sew fitten fur much, though I hev tried ter l’arn. I ’pear ter be slow an’ don’t get much purchase on it. I can’t keep no stiddy aim with a needle, nuther. An’ all the wimmen ez ever hed a chance at Rosamondy tuk ter quar’lin over her, like them done ez Sol’mon hed ter jedge a-twixt, till I war actially afeared she be tore in two. Ever since the war I hev been livin’ down in Persimmon Cove an’ thar it war I merried. ’Bout a year ago Em’line she died o’ the lung complaint. An’ then the ’tother wimmen, her sister an’ mother, they quar’led so over Rosamondy, an’ set tharse’fs so ter spite me every which-a-way, ez I jes’ ’lowed I’d fetch her up hyar fur this winter ter bide with my folks awhile. An’ I fund ’em all dead or moved away—jes’ my luck! Rosamondy an’ me hev hed a mighty hard time. I hev been mighty poor, never could git no good holt on nuthin’. I ain’t felt much like tryin’ noways sence Em’line lef’; ’pears mighty hard she couldn’t hev been let ter bide awhile longer.” And once more his eyes filled with tears. “Waal, mournin’ the dead is grudgin’ ’em the glory,” said Mrs. Guyther in her comforting tones. “I know that,” said Jerry, “I hev tried ter bow my mind;” his eyes were still full of tears. And Ike, looking at them, was disposed to wonder where he got them, so little did they seem genuine. The tallow dip on the mantel-piece went out in a splutter and left them all sitting in the red glow of the fire, which was a mass of coals where the white flames had been. It was far later than the usual bed-time of the family, and thus they were reminded of it. Mrs. Guyther, kneeling on the hearth, began to cover the coals with the plentiful ashes that lay in great heaps on either side. The dogs, summoned by Hiram Guyther to leave the house, pulled themselves into various efforts at an upright posture, and sat gazing blinkingly at the fire with a determination to misunderstand the tenor of his discourse. One of them glanced over his shoulder at the door and shivered at the thought of the bleak dampness outside. Another yawned shrilly and was adjured by aunt Jemima to hesh his mouth—didn’t he know he’d wake the baby up if he kep’ yappin’ that-a-way. “Let the dogs alone, Hiram,” said Mrs. Guyther, “they count on bein’ allowed ter stay till the las’ minit. Ye show Jerry whar he hev ter sleep whilst I fix the fire.” After the host had shown Jerry up the ladder to the shadowy roof-room, Abner, who had not again spoken to the visitor, and seeming as if he were gazing ponderingly into the fire, said suddenly to the two women:— “What do that leetle gal look like?” Mrs. Guyther paused with the shovel in her hand, as she still knelt on the hearth. Aunt Jemima dropped her knitting in her lap.